


Retreat

by sherlockpond



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Anal Fingering, Beach House, Blow Jobs, Childhood Memories, Day At The Beach, Day Off, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Night Away, Reality TV, Swimming, Texting, Walks On The Beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24109180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockpond/pseuds/sherlockpond
Summary: Ianto's finally got a day off. Jack's got an idea.[A fic with casual clothes, some trash TV, some sex, and some time away from Cardiff - if the producers won't give these two boys some rest and recuperation, then I bloody will]
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 14
Kudos: 143





	Retreat

**Author's Note:**

> I found this as a WIP after I posted 'Mind Your Language' this morning, and in some strange turn of events I actually used my productivity to finish it. Out of character even for me.
> 
> Couple of things! 
> 
> Firstly - I loved CopperBadge's line "So clever, so pretty, so shy," so I stole it, you know, like a thief. So that's a homage to all their amazing works.
> 
> Sorry to anyone who lives in Abergavenny - I think it's a beautiful place, but I had to choose somewhere to poke fun at.
> 
> Thanks for all your kudos, bookmarks and comments on the previous story, it's down to those that make me finally get my act together to more post stuff. 
> 
> You're all brill.

_‘Hello, you’ve reached Ianto Jones, I’m busy but if you leave a message I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,’_

Delete.

_‘You’ve reached Ianto Jones, it’s my day off, so unless the world is actually ending - bugger off,’_

Better.

Ianto tosses his phone onto the sofa and pulls the blanket back up to his shoulders. It’s nine-thirty and he’s got a whole day of blissful _nothingness_ to look forward to. He’s been up since eight (a lie-in in comparison to his normal routine), dragged himself from his bed, switched on his coffee machine, put some bread in the toaster. All before cocooning himself on the sofa patiently waiting to be beckoned by either the coffee or the toast (which ever clicked off first).

He hits the on button for the TV with the remote and settles into the cushions, flicking through the channels until he hits on something easy.

_Ah-ha_ he thinks triumphantly, selecting _More 4_ and dropping the remote next to him _Four in a Bed._

_Brilliant._

He hears the toast pop up and he shrugs off the blanket, walking into the kitchen, his bare feet chilling on slate tiles. Ianto would never say his flat is _big_ but it’s enough, the space is suitable to have a place where you can live, relax (when there’s time) and sleep. He’s never felt claustrophobic in his Cardiff flat, which was a frankly refreshing change from when he lived in London.

He carefully takes the toast out and slathers butter all over both slices, taking a bite just as the tell-tale noise of the coffee machine tells him that the water is ready. He chews slowly as he places a coffee mug under the machine, loads up the portafilter with fresh coffee granules and slips it into the grouphead, twisting it until it’s secure. He presses ‘double shot’ and takes a deep breath in as the smell of coffee fills the kitchen. He heats up some milk whilst the last of the coffee drips into the mug and then pours the milk in, smiling with satisfaction as a leaf pattern easily forms on the top.

Perfect.

He picks up the other slice of toast and walks back into the living room, dropping back onto the sofa. _Four in a Bed_ continues idly on and Ianto takes the first sip of his coffee as he lets himself become engrossed in the TV.

_‘Geraldine and John run the Red Lion in Abergavenny - -,’_

“Poor sods,” Ianto scoffs dryly.

_‘ - -which offers beautiful views across towards the Brecon Beacons - -,’_

“Doesn’t mean anything if they’re in Abergavenny,” Ianto mutters, chewing on his toast. 

He doesn’t change the channel.

On screen, Geraldine stands outside the B&B and proudly smiles as the A465 roars behind her, her husband, John, stands beside her with a tight smile and his hands clasped behind him.

_‘“We truly believe that the Red Lion is one of the best B &B’s in all of South Wales,”’ _she declares, just as a lorry barrages behind them, horn blaring.

Ianto chuckles and takes a long sip of coffee, but his mind drifts as he watches Geraldine tug her (clearly long-suffering) husband into the foyer to welcome their guests. The shot changes and he watches a few different types of accomodation come up on the screen, showing the plethora of twins, double and single rooms.

_I wonder whether Jack would agree to a weekend away_ he thinks, absent-mindedly _or is that a bit weird for two people who aren’t ‘together’-together?_

As if on cue, his phone chirps and Ianto leans over to pick it up, welcome to the distraction.

**_1 missed call (Jack) (6 minutes ago)_ **

**_1 new message (Jack) (now)_ **

He opens the message, popping the last piece of toast into his mouth, he must have missed the call whilst he was in the kitchen.

**(Jack)**

**> I like the new voicemail. Witty.**

Ianto smirks and quickly types out a reply.

**< I try to be efficient in every aspect of my life.**

He silently congratulates himself for yet another droll snark as he watches the message send.

**> Looks like a quiet day here. Wanna show me the limits of your efficiency?**

Ianto bites his lip, does he play it cool and say no, or does he address the pooling warmth in his stomach? 

_Bit of a waste of the day_ he ponders _spending all it of it indoors._

**< Why should I spend my day off trying to impress my boss?**

He rereads it a few times before hitting send. It’s not a no, he just wants to test the water a little.

**> Well, what can I do to sweeten the deal?**

Ianto nearly types out a list, but he decides to go enigmatic.

**< Think about it. Get back to me when you think you’ve got something good enough.**

**> ;)**

Ianto huffs a laugh and puts his phone to one side and looks back at the TV. Geraldine is smiling, all sugar and syrup at the guests, showing them around the B&B. Shortly after, the camera cuts to the guests standing in a small workshop.

_‘So, in Welsh tradition, we thought you could all make some Welsh love spoons with our friend Huw!’_ Geraldine waves her arms towards a very embarrassed looking thirty-something man (clearly a carpenter), dressed in a worn leather apron, who smiles awkwardly and tries to recover his dignity.

Ianto shakes his head as Geraldine comments on her guests works-in-progress as they make their spoons, one looks like a trowel, another looks like the silhouette of a small dog, and the last one doesn’t look like any kind of cutlery Ianto’s ever seen before in his life. 

_‘John and I didn’t really enjoy the Welsh-spoon class,’_ one of the guests says, looking to his husband _‘I don’t think any of us made something which even resembled a spoon,’_

Ianto chuckles and finishes off the dregs of his coffee, letting himself enjoy settling into the normality of watching midmorning TV.

When the episode of _Four in a Bed_ comes to an end, Ianto flicks to the TV guide and notices it’s part of a triple-bill.

_Lush._

He replaces the remote back onto the coffee table just as his phone heralds another text message. Ianto grins as he picks it up.

**> Wanna get out of the city?**

Ianto frowns and looks around his flat, does Jack have some alien tech spying on him?

**< Might do. What you thinking?**

**> I have a little hideaway I bought a while back. **

**> Why don’t I come over?**

Ianto narrows his eyes, his fingers fly over the buttons.

**< And how do I know this isn’t a ploy to invite you over and we never go anywhere?**

**> :O**

**> Is that a yes?**

**< ...an apprehensive yes…**

**> I’ll be over in half an hour **

Ianto rolls his eyes and scrolls through his work emails, Tosh’s forwarded a few things along for him to file, Owen’s funding on the Weevil’s needs to be approved and Gwen’s backpay needs sorting before the end of the week. He sighs and exits it before he can fall into the trap of actually working, putting his attention back into _Four in a Bed_ , the adverts finish as he tunes himself back into the new set of B&B owners.

Forty minutes later there’s a knock at the door, Ianto unwraps himself from the warmth of his nest and walks to the door, unlocking and opening it.

“I do know you have a key, you can use it,” he says as Jack comes into view.

Jack grins and Ianto stands to one side to let him in “I didn’t want to catch you in a compromising position,” he says archedly, raising an eyebrow.

He looks Ianto up and down “Y’know, there’s a lot of things I appreciate in this world, but the sight of you in your pyjamas and a hoodie might just be at the top somewhere,”

Ianto scowls but leans in for a kiss nonetheless, Jack hums appreciatively “You look so young like this, those suits are good but this feels a bit more _Ianto_ ,”

“Whatever that means,” Ianto says sarcastically, but Jack goes for another kiss and runs his hands up and down Ianto’s sides, the warmth in his stomach returns like dying embers in the breeze. 

They snog like they haven’t seen each other in days in the small hallway of Ianto’s flat, Ianto hooks his hands under Jack’s coat and they somehow, together, manage to slide it from his shoulders and it falls, unceremoniously, to the floor. Ianto pulls away to try to pick it up.

“Leave it,” Jack says quietly, kissing Ianto’s neck “you’re off duty,”

Ianto sighs and lets his head fall back “I knew you just wanted to come over for a shag,”

Jack stops and leans back “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve got somewhere on the other side of Swansea. I thought we could spend the night there, go for a walk, make some dinner…,”

They’re both a little out of breath and Ianto adjusts himself as Jack eyes him lewdly, his pyjama bottoms not really leaving anything to the imagination.

“Go pack a bag, we can be there by midday,” Jack says, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Ianto casts him a withering look “I’m supposed to go and pack with _that_?” his eyes flick down and back up, expectantly.

Jack lets out a half-shocked (but mostly smug) gasp “Anyone would think I’m a bad influence on you,”

Ianto threads his fingers through Jack’s hair as the older man falls to his knees “And those people are idiots,” he says as deft fingers pull at the elastic of his pyjama bottoms, sighing as a warm wetness engulfs his cock.

***

One orgasm, a change of clothes, a packed bag, and another thorough snog against the kitchen counter later, Jack and Ianto appear from the flat - the door slamming shut and locked behind them.

Jack prises the leather duffle bag from Ianto’s fingers as they walk through the foyer; Ianto doesn’t stop him, he pulls out the keys to his Audi and tosses them at Jack who smirks and pops the boot open and puts Ianto’s bag in the back, Jack had slipped in a change of clothes and a toothbrush from his small stash at the bottom of Ianto’s wardrobe. 

They climb into the car and Jack smoothly exits the car park, Ianto takes a deep breath and watches the city rush by, he feels a hand on his knee and when he looks over Jack’s smiling as he watches the road.

Soon the M4 melts into the countryside and Ianto feels a strange calmness fall over him, the crest the horizon at North Cornelly and the sea spreads out into view, the sun sits high in the sky amongst mile upon mile of blue sky. It feels idyllic, utterly idyllic.

They descend into Port Talbot and Ianto watches familiar houses and shops fly past the car, he spent a lot of time here during his sixth form years, catching the train in the morning, spending the day in someone’s bedroom, smoking and drinking until the small hours. It feels like another lifetime, when in actual fact it’s less than ten years ago. They get to Swansea within an hour and cling to the coastline, Ianto watches as they pass a sign for Swansea and the A483, he looks curiously at Jack.

“I thought you said we’re heading to Swansea?”

Jack nods “We need to pick up some food for later. Maybe some wine?” he waggles his eyebrows. Ianto hates himself as he feels a smile pull at his lips.

“Sounds good, although not too much. You seem to think you’re a comedian when you’re drunk,” Ianto deadpans, Jack laughs and they pull into the car park of a small Tesco’s. 

“I am! You just don’t have the stomach for my humour!” Jack replies, pulling up the handbrake and switching off the ignition before popping the car door open, Ianto follows suit and they head into Tesco.

Jack buys the most unnecessary food Ianto has ever seen, not to mention two bottles of white wine and one bottle of prosecco. Ianto casts a confused look at him as they heave their haul onto the self-checkout till, there’s some fancy crisps, the ingredients for white wine sauce and mussels, tenderstem broccoli, somehow Jack has sneaked a box of chocolates in there too, as well as Tesco’s Finest croissants. It all feels more than a little domestic.

The final bill is staggeringly high, and Ianto feels a little awkward when the assistant comes over to verify their age on the till (no need for ID), and Jack pays on his card. Ianto can’t tell if the feeling he’s got is because he feels guilty for the amount of money - he doesn’t want to seem like a charity case, or whether this is their _agreement_ shifting into something more. They take their bags and put them in the boot, before setting back off again.

Ianto can’t settle in his seat.

“Jack?”

Jack glances over at him “You okay?”

“What is this?” Ianto says, watching the sign for Brynmill pass by, the sea glittering far out on the left.

“What’s what?”

“ _This_ . Us spending the night away? I thought it might just be _a night away_ , but the food? You bought half of Tesco and that wasn’t just food, that’s like...a romantic dinner. Like a date,”

“And how would you feel if I _wanted_ this to be a date, of sorts?” Jack looks over at him quickly, as if trying to gauge his reaction.

Ianto opens his mouth, but then closes it, not sure of what to say.

“Ianto?” Jack’s glancing over, looking a little worried.

Ianto looks back at him “That’s fine,”

“Fine?”

“Yeah, fine,”

“Just fine?”

“ _Yes,”_

Jack smiles broadly and focuses back on the road “We’ll be there in ten, maybe we can talk properly with a glass of wine?”

Ianto feels his stomach clench, and his chest tightens a bit “Okay,”

***

The house is the exact opposite of what Ianto expects, that shouldn’t surprise him because nearly everything about Jack is unexpected. 

They pull down a small track and follow it until a small solitary fishing cottage comes into view overlooking Bracelet Bay (Ianto had narrowed his eyes as Jack had said the name). White-washed walls and small windows, a dark blue wooden door (slightly sun-damaged), finished with a beautiful outdoor table overlooking the bay and out to the lighthouse at the end of the left-hand curve, the cottage is nestled neatly into the rock, hidden from prying eyes.

Ianto’s breath catches in his throat as they pull up and come to a stop, it’s captivating and charming. The kind of cottage he’d see other kids spend their summer holidays in, whilst he had to share a sweltering caravan with his Mam, Dad and sister. And certainly not a patch on the tent holidays of his early twenties.

Jack smiles fondly when he sees the look on Ianto’s face, whilst switching off the ignition, and takes his hand, squeezing it a little.

They climb out the car and Jack opens the boot, loading the duffle bag over one shoulder and taking one of the shopping bags, Ianto takes the other and follows Jack to a small porch. He pulls out his utterly ridiculous set of keys and finds one of the oldest and most tarnished, slotting it easily into the keyhole and throwing a smile over his shoulder for effect before pushing the door open.

Ianto holds back a gasp, it’s just as picturesque inside as it is outside. They walk into a small but functional kitchen, kitted out with original sideboards of hardwood and matching cupboards, a fireplace sits on one side of the room, and on the other is an old range cooker. Jack puts the bags down on the farm style kitchen table and throws open the curtains over the sink, then the pair which overlook the bay. The windows are small but sunlight comes streaming through, making the lime washed walls glow warm white, it’s the most perfect cottage, not a single thing out of place. Ianto realises he’s been quiet for a bit too long and when he looks at Jack, the other man is grinning, smugly.

“You like it?” he asks, walking over and taking one of Ianto’s hands.

“It’s beautiful,” Ianto says quietly “how long have you had it?”

Jack wrinkles his nose, looking a little hesitant “A while, found it back in the forties, thought it would be good to have a base somewhere out of the city,” he tugs Ianto towards an old heavy wooden door, clearly leading into another section of the cottage “c’mon,”

Ianto allows himself to be led through, Jack uses the old-fashioned latch to open the door and swing it open. Just when he thought it couldn’t be any better, the living room comes into view.

More white-washed walls, alongside ancient beams prop up the small room, a small grey sofa sits opposite the hearth, complete with a log burner. It’s sparsely decorated, save for the antique clock hanging over the fireplace. Jack chuckles at Ianto’s expression before airing the room, pulling open more curtains on both sides of the room and opening the windows. Ianto spots, on the far right hand wall, a set of what seem to be (very dangerous) wooden steps heading up to what he guesses is a bedroom. Jack reappears and follows his gaze.

“There’s only the bedroom and bathroom up there, nothing too interesting,” he says “I thought we could have a light lunch and then head down to the beach? Maybe I could convince you to go for a swim?”

Ianto nods, eyes still taking in the room around him “Sounds good,” he says.

***

They make some sandwiches with bread that Ianto doesn’t remember Jack buying, they make idle chat whilst they eat, Ianto’s phone sits on the table next to his plate - he wills it not the ring. Ianto washes up, Jack rolls his eyes almost endearingly, before heading into the bathroom to change into his swimming trunks, when he comes back down into the kitchen, a t-shirt thrown over his arm he finds Jack looks bizarrely normal in three-quarter length shorts and a white t-shirt, finished off with a pair of flip-flops. 

Jack takes perhaps a _little_ too much pleasure in rubbing suncream into Ianto’s back, and although the atmosphere around them changes as Jack’s skillful hands cover the expanse of bare flesh with the lotion, they manage to leave the cottage without any unplanned segueways (Ianto offers the bottle to Jack but he shakes his head “I don’t burn,” he says with a smile).

The sun is still sitting high in the sky, and Ianto squints as his eyes adjust to the light. He hears the door shut being him as Jack locks up, and then feels a tap on his shoulder. As he turns he sees Jack reaching into his pocket and producing a pair of sunglasses, similar to the same perched on his own nose. 

Ianto smiles and takes them, studying one of the arms.

“I’m guessing these Ray Ban’s are vintage?” he asks, sliding the Wayfarers on.

Jack waggles his eyebrows, but it’s half lost under his own tinted spectacles “You bet,”

Ianto shakes his head, smiling widely as Jack takes his hand and they make their way down to the beach. It’s a small path, over-shadowed with lush green trees and saplings, a carpet of moss and grass. The sunlight dapples through the trees and Ianto can smell the sea as they grow closer.

_If heaven existed. This could be it._ Ianto thinks quietly, the sound of birdsong coming from afar, the gentle roll of waves breaking on the beach coming from ahead - but not yet visible. Jack talks about the area, and Ianto enjoys letting his brain half listen. He makes the right noises when he knows he needs to, Jack looks pleased when he chances a glance across at him every now and again. They walk for about ten or fifteen minutes (Ianto doesn’t know because he doesn’t care at this point) until they finally come to an old wooden style, Jack goes first and lets out a pleased hum when he sees the sea, Ianto hops over (with a little less grace than he’d hoped for) and _finally_ sees the open sea.

To the left the bay stretches out into the distance, with two or three little islands, a lighthouse perched on the furthest - white and tall against the turquoise of the ocean. It’s stunning, utterly stunning. Ianto can barely believe he’s so close to Cardiff, normally you have to drive to Tenby or St David’s for a sight similar to this. 

They both slip their respective footwear off and walk down to where the water meets the sand, the beach is completely empty, not one other person. It would be eerie if the weather wasn’t so blissfully beautiful. Jack laces his fingers through the younger man’s and they walk the length of the beach, talking occasionally about nothing in particular, but there are periods of quiet where all that can be heard is the sound of waves crashing or seagulls calling.

Once they reach the far side of the beach, Jack lets go of Ianto’s hand and dumps his shoes on the sand, pulling off his t-shirt.

“Fancy a dip?” he says.

Ianto nods and looks around, checking for any newcomers, but the beach is still vacant bar the two of them. He drops his own shoes and then slides his shirt over his head, dropping it onto the pile. Jack beams and heads to the water, Ianto follows like he always does.

The illusion that Bracelet Bay is in the mediterraean disappears as soon as Ianto’s calves touch the water. He hadn’t really noticed the cold until now, and his skin burst with goosebumps across his arms and shoulders - Jack was already swimming about fifteen foot away.

_Bloody show-off_ Ianto thinks, watching the way his legs cast diamonds of water into the air _can’t have him thinking a wuss._

And with that, Ianto grits his teeth and wades in, his breath coming out in short covered gasps as the water reaches the soft skin of his thighs, he pushes on and soon he’s level with Jack. He dunks his shoulders in and bites back a gasp, and then breaks into a stroke, trying to sell it as effortlessly as possible - he reckons he succeeds.

The pair swim for what feels like hours, the water temperature quickly becomes bearable and they swim out to a small rock, the sea calm and gentle. There’s a little bit of competitiveness, Jack swims like he runs, efficient and fast - Ianto watches his arms move in the water, cutting through with the precision of an athlete. He reminds himself that Jack is older than he looks, and swimming is just another skill he’s had time to master (he still feels a little bitter though when his kicks aren’t as powerful).

Lunch blends into afternoon, then late afternoon, and they spend a few hours lying on the sand, drying out (and reapplying suncream). Ianto’s stomach grumbles in protest of being forgotten about and Jack laughs, pink high on his cheeks, hair drying in salty spikes and sand stuck to his neck, shoulders and ears. Every inch the film star Ianto reckons he could be. He takes a sip from a bottle of water Jack’s brought down with them, relishing the cold water contrasting with his hot skin.

“Hungry?” 

Ianto shrugs nonchalantly “I suppose. But I’m not really sure I want to get up,”

Jack gets onto his knees and moves to press a kiss to Ianto’s suncream skin “Let’s go back and make some food, we can always come back later for a walk,”

Reluctantly, Ianto agrees, letting Jack pull him up to standing and using his discarded t-shirt to brush the worst of the sand off. They walk back to the house hand in hand.

***

The whole time they make dinner Ianto keeps one eye on his phone, sitting innocently on the kitchen counter. This all feels too easy, too good, something _has_ to happen and bring reality crashing down around them. He chops up some vegetables, stirs the mussels in white sauce, and finishes his first glass of white wine.

But the phone remains silent, not one text, nor a call comes through.

Two plates are placed on the kitchen table, along with cutlery and wine-replenished glasses. Ianto takes a seat, Jack sits opposite - it feels oddly like a date. They take their first few bites, it’s fantastic, but what else does Ianto expect at this point?

“I grew up by the sea,” Jack says, before taking another mouthful and chewing thoughtfully.

Ianto considers this for a second “That explains why you’re such a good swimmer,”

Jack chuckles “I’d spend whole days down on the beach, come home with my bag full of pebbles, shells, small pieces of metal worn down by the sea.”

“Didn’t your parents worry?” Ianto reaches for his wine and takes a long drink.

Jack shrugs “They knew I was okay, the place where we lived on the peninsula - you could see the beach for miles. They had a set of binoculars they could use if they wanted to check on me.” he smiles at the memory, but it slides from his face “these creatures invaded when I was thirteen. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere alone after that, just in case - safety in numbers,”

Jack looks down at his food and starts to eat again, he doesn’t want to mention Gray - there’d be too many questions. They’d never really talked about his past before, but as Jack looks over at Ianto he sees sympathy in his eyes.

“You never really talk about your childhood,” he says, giving Jack a weak smile.

“Neither do you,”

They both fall into silence, the only sound present is cutlery scraping on crockery. Jack waits, patiently, he knows the look on Ianto’s face. As if he’s working up to something, he’s seen it countless times before.

“My childhood wasn’t special.” he starts, finishing off the last bite of his dinner “now I’ve got some experience in what a childhood should look like, with my niece and nephew, I could probably go as far to say that it was less than ideal.”

Jack says nothing, only puts down his fork and reaches across to take one Ianto’s hands in his own.

“Mam did what she could, drive me up to my Nana’s most weekends. God, I used to love it there. Kept me out the house; away from Dad,” his tone drops and he blinks a few times in quick succession, like he’s trying to dissipate an image in front of his eyes. 

“By Sunday I’d be crying, seeing the car pull up outside. Nana would say that it wasn’t long until I’d be back, that I had to be strong,” he laughs humourlessly “she knew, of course. So she always made sure those weekends were filled with walks in the valley, catching insects, building dams in streams. Those two days always felt so long, but never long enough,”

Jack squeezes his hand, Ianto looks up and smiles sadly “I know you’ve seen them. The scars. And I’m grateful you never asked.”

“You never deserved what he did to you,” Jack says, quiet but firm.

“I know,” Ianto sighs detachedly “I wish the scars were the worst of it - but it was the guilt. He _always_ made me feel guilty, about everything. I was never the son he wanted, I wasn’t talented in sports, I wasn’t naturally strong or intimidating. All the things he expected from me, I couldn’t give him. He used to make me feel like a failure,” Ianto runs a finger over the grain in the table “he still does,”

Jack takes the hand and holds both of them tightly, Ianto’s eyes meet his and they look a little watery.

“Don’t give him that power,”

“I know. But when it’s constant - when it’s been drilled into you _relentlessly_ that you’re average, you’re a let down, it’s hard to shake. I spend my life trying to prove to myself, and everyone else, that I’m _better_ than that - better than what he thought of me,”

“ _You are_ ,”

Ianto tilts his head, rolling his eyes a little “You _would_ say that, who else knows how to make coffee so strong it could bring back the dead? Or take a whole filing system and reorganise it within less than a week?”

Jack shakes his head “You misunderstand me. _You’re_ a good man, Ianto. You’re brave, strong, _funny_ , incredibly intelligent. I just hope one day you realise that,”

Ianto pulls his hands back suddenly, and exhales a long breath, rubbing his thighs, he reaches for Jack’s plate, piling it on his own and standing up to put them in the sink, turning on the hot tap with shaky hands.

_That’s the end of that conversation, then_ Jack muses sadly.

He gets out of his seat and slowly walks over to Ianto, winding his arms around the younger man’s waist and holding him tight.

“Like you said, we’re all broken. But sometimes we find people who heal us, not completely, but enough to know our worth. Our value.” Jack says quietly, pressing a kiss into Ianto’s shoulder, soft cotton against his lips.

Ianto relaxes in his arms and pauses mid-chore, setting down a half-clean plate.

“Thank you,” he says, barely even a whisper, but Jack is certain he hears it.

“Leave the washing up. Lets go for a walk.” Jack mumbles into the soft skin of Ianto’s neck, he feels a little nod and smiles.

  
  


**

The sun is beginning to set and a cool breeze has picked up. Jack shrugs on a thickly knitted jumper, and smiles as Ianto pulls on an old metal band hoodie. They walk, in companionable silence, along the headland overlooking the water below as it crashes weakly on the cliff face. The lighthouse on the far island has begun it’s nightly work and the closer they get the end of the land, the stronger the beam becomes, by the time they reach the last jut of land the sun is low in the sky - blue sky striped with jetstreams which are tinted orange and pink. The cloud on the horizon is low, undefined and purple, becoming hues or deep orange and transitioning to yellow the further the light reaches.

Ianto looks across at Jack, noting that his eyes are closed and his face looks so peaceful, he can see the older man taking long, steady breaths. The last few rays catch on his skin and just for a second he looks every inch of the immortal man he is - powerful and secure, yet vulnerability settles at the corner of his eyes. He looks timeless, and that scares Ianto - more than he’d care to ever admit.

Dusk slowly transitions into night and they sit on their small patch of grass as the day comes to an end. Ianto watches, entranced, as the beam from the lighthouse catches on the cliffs to their right, circling before heading back out across the sea. The seabirds shout, echoing around them - it’s almost haunting.

Eventually the cold begins to settle and Jack stands up “Come on, let’s go back and light the fire,”

Ianto nods, getting himself to his feet, brushing himself down before they begin to walk back to the cottage.

“You know, I’ve never brought anyone else here.” Jack admits gently, Ianto’s brow furrows.

“Never?”

Jack shakes his head “No.”

Ianto doesn’t really know what to make of that, so he just lets Jack open the cottage door and they file inside.

Jack’s almost _too_ efficient with the fire and it’s roaring away within ten minutes. Ianto settles on the sofa in front of it and happily takes a glass of wine from Jack as he joins him (Ianto suspects he’s probably just done the washing up without telling him - he’ll remind himself to be angry about that later). Jack puts the box of chocolates from Tesco on the coffee table and pops them open, taking one before offering the box to Ianto. 

Sugar levels sufficiently restored, Jack tips his glass in Ianto’s direction, once he’s settled on the sofa “To a night away,”

Ianto smiles and tilts his glass in reciprocation “A night away,”

They both take a drink and the atmosphere around them shifts. Ianto puts his glass on the old coffee table in front of the sofa and gets onto his knees before shuffling forward until he’s only a few inches away from Jack. He takes the wine glass from Jack’s hand and carefully sets it on the coffee table to join his own and then turns back to the older man.

“Thank you,” he says, he’s not sure which bit he’s thanking Jack for, it could be all of it, or it could just be dinner. He lets Jack interpret that how he will.

A wonderful serene smile settles on Jack’s lips “Thank _you_ ,”

It’s so honest it makes the breath catch in Ianto’s throat, and before another word can be said, Jack leans forward and closes the gap between them. It’s bizarrely _unsexual_ for a kiss including Jack Harkness, it’s too tender, too soft. They break apart and Ianto feels a flush on his cheeks, Jack brings a hand up to Ianto’s mouth, tracing his lips with a thumb.

“So clever, so pretty, so shy,” he says, eyes searching the younger man’s face.

Ianto raises an eyebrow.

_Shy?_ he ponders for a second _I’ll show you shy._

Ianto’s dry look contorts into a smirk and then he’s bringing their lips together in a hot, fiery kiss. He puts all his adoration into it, every bit, his hands fumble underneath the jumper Jack had put on earlier and they eventually find warm skin, smoothly moving up and down Jack’s back as Ianto presses their hips together.

After a few minutes of what can only be defined as rather heavy petting, Ianto pulls away. Jack chuckles and they shift, their growing hard-ons making clothing slightly less desirable. Ianto settles into Jack’s lap, his arse directly on Jack’s groin, he shifts his hips enticingly - the older man’s eyes are dark with lust.

“Always so surprising,” Jack says, meeting Ianto’s rhythm. They’re both adults and they’re acting like horny teenagers, Jack lets his head fall back against the arm of the sofa and Ianto pushes his hips down for a particularly spectacular grind that has stars bursting behind his eyes.

“Bedroom,” Ianto chokes, reluctantly swinging his legs off Jack, smirking at the tent in his trousers and yanking him by the arm towards the stairs.

Jack palms his erection into a more comfortable position, groaning at the touch, before hastily letting Ianto drag him upstairs.

***

Two hours later finds Ianto draped over Jack's back, his chin tucked into the older man's shoulder, still buried inside him. They’re both panting, the white sheets surrounding them are damp and twisted. Jack turns his head to press an exhausted kiss to Ianto’s cheek.

A small antique lamp is the only source of warm light, casting long shadows across the room and making both of their skin look soft and clear.

“You’re incredible,” he says between breaths.

Ianto grins and reciprocates with a kiss to Jack’s shoulder, followed by a small bite.

Jack yelps and twitches, his muscles contract and Ianto moans as he slips out, followed by a wet trail. The older man lets out a shaky breath and they both maneuver into a more comfortable position. Ianto catches a glance at Jack looking utterly fucked out and his poor cock twitches with renewed interest - he admits there’s some use in being in his mid-twenties. He collapses next to Jack and lets the other man draw him close, the sheets twist around their waists as they even out their breaths. Ianto slides a hand down to his own groin and presses a palm to himself, relishing in the pressure of the aftershocks shooting up his spine.

“And you say _I’m_ insatiable,” Jack says, watching Ianto closely, eyes slowly trailing up from where Ianto’s hand is busying itself to finally rest, fixed on Ianto’s face.

The younger man keeps his hand in place and shuffles over, they share a long kiss and when they break apart Jack brings a hand to Ianto’s side and trails it down to where he’s very familiar. Ianto’s eyes slide shut and he falls against the pillows as Jack softly rubs his hand, careful to not cause any painful overstimulation - he studies him, fascinated, as Ianto lets out small gasps and short puffs of breath. 

It only takes ten minutes and a sly, wicked, finger slipping inside Ianto to make him come again, heels pressing into the mattress, body shaking as he mutters nonsense words of adoration that make wrinkles form in the corner of Jack’s eyes.

***

Ianto wakes to an empty bed, he used to think _he_ was an early-bird, but Jack seems to always be up earlier. He pulls on his discarded t-shirt from the night before and his day-old boxers before quietly making his way downstairs. The living room is empty, the clock over the fireplace announces that it’s nearly seven-thirty, Ianto unlatches the kitchen door to find that room empty, too. 

He looks to the kitchen table and spies a note, his stomach almost falls out as he picks it up.

_Gone for a swim. I’ll be back soon._

_J_

Ianto lets out a breath. Okay, so not abandoned, just gone to cool off. Ianto puts the note back on the table and sees a cafetiere full of fresh coffee. He helps himself and sits at the table, enjoying the silence, letting himself relish the taste of the coffee.

A few minutes pass and the front door opens with a squeak of hinges and a crack of a lock, Jack appears with a towel around his shoulders and his trunks sopping wet, there’s a pink flush across his chest and forehead from the cold water. Ianto wordlessly gets up and pulls him close, dampness-be-damned, tasting salt on his lips and wetness in his hair. Jack melts into the kiss after a few seconds, their lips the only sound except for the lone ticking of the clock in the next room.

Ianto pulls away and licks his lips, the taste of more salt exploding on his tongue. Jack’s got a boyish grin on his face.

“I was going to wake you, but you looked so comfortable,” he says, taking the towel from his shoulders and rubbing his hair. 

Ianto nods, watching water droplets fall onto the flagstone floor “That’s okay, I was pretty tired,”

When Ianto looks up, Jack’s got an eyebrow arched “I think you wore yourself out,”

The younger man smiles, berating himself for the heat in his cheeks “Maybe,”

A relaxed atmosphere settles between them and Ianto realises that it’s taken nearly twenty-four hours for him to manage to let go properly and chill out. His shoulders feel less tense, his neck isn’t aching like it normally does, and his feet don’t feel like they’re aching - one night away has managed to make him feel rather rejuvenated.

“I thought we could head back in an hour - there’s some croissants in the bread bin, but I thought it might be nice to go grab some breakfast somewhere? I know a lovely cafe overlooking the sea between here and Cardiff,” Jack says, picking up the discarded duffle bag from under the kitchen table.

Ianto shrugs “Sounds good,” 

“Go and get dressed, I’ll put the croissants in the oven.” Jack presses a kiss to Ianto’s cheek and passes him the duffle bag, he takes it gratefully and heads upstairs. His eyes fall on the bed, still messy and stained with god knows what and he smiles privately to himself before stripping off his dirty clothes and hopping in the shower for a quick clean.

By the time he gets downstairs, there’s the smell of warm pastry in the air - it feels oddly domestic - and more fresh coffee. Jack plates up two each and sets the butter and jam on the table for them to use. Ianto dumps his duffle bag on the floor, alongside the used bed sheets and pillow cases wrapped inside the duvet cover.

He dives into his croissant with determined enthusiasm. He’s just about to take his second bite when Jack speaks up.

“I’ve had a message from Tosh,” he says reluctantly “she’s picked up some rift activity - it looks big.”

The weight of reality comes crashing down around Ianto’s ears and he nods, trying not to look to upset “Knew it was only a matter of time,”

Jack smiles solemnly “We’ll go for some food when it’s over, I promise,” 

Ianto nods “Sounds good,” he repeats as he loads up another chunk of croissant with jam and chews slowly, eventually swallowing it down “thanks for this, I don’t think I’ve said it _properly_ yet. But thank you. I’ve had a really nice time,”

Jack’s eyes regain a bit of their sparkle “Me too,”

“Back to the real world, then?” Ianto says with a tight smile, standing up and collecting their used plates.

Jack returns the smile, but like Ianto’s it feels hollow, he’d desperately hoped that the Rift would be merciful - he summises that they had a night, at least - that’s something. He watches Ianto move to the sink, before getting to his feet and picking up the used linen and Ianto’s duffle bag, grabbing the car keys.

“Yeah,” he murmurs distractedly “back to the real world,”

_fin_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Cheers for reading! If you really liked it, that kudos button makes my fingers type quicker!


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